


Rose Bouquets

by thecalendarbusiness



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy (Off-Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, happy pierre is the best pierre, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecalendarbusiness/pseuds/thecalendarbusiness
Summary: This was a request sent to my tumblr, and I figured that I would post it here too. Enjoy!





	Rose Bouquets

Between the invitations, the venue, and everything in-between that needed to be done, the stress was building in both you and Pierre. Pierre, of course, didn’t want to be of any inconvenience to you or the planning process so he agreed to let you take the reigns of the planning, offering the occasional input whenever you were stuck with picking a pattern for the invitations, or the paper for the invitations. He just wanted you to have what you felt was the perfect wedding. You just wished that everyone else in your life would be as easy going about the whole experience as Pierre. Every now and then, the stress of it all would boil over. 

You don’t even know what caused this argument really; undoubtedly it was something simple that shouldn’t have even caused a disagreement. One thing led to another, and the next thing you knew Pierre was on at end of the study with you at the other and the two of you were yelling practically at the top of your lungs.

Storming out in a huff, you wandered into the living room and slumped onto the couch, resting your head in your hands. After a few moments of silence, you could hear Pierre’s footsteps coming up the hall before the sound of the front door opening and closing. Taking a breath, you wandered into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. 

After your third or fourth cup of tea, you heard the door open and close again before the sound footsteps coming down the hall, and the voice of your fiance calling your name. You stood, cleaning up after yourself and entering the hallway. 

“Pierre? I’m in the kitchen” you called after him. 

Rounding the corner to the front of the house, to see your husband-to-be standing behind a bouquet of roses, blushing slightly, and extending his arm out to you a small smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry, honey I-”

“Nonono, honey no-” you interrupted, “It’s not your fault, it’s mine. I overreacted.” 

You took the flowers from him, kissing his cheek. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I love you”

“I love you too”


End file.
